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Story: Menotte avec toi

Chapter Six

Sonnet

Having a chance to explore my fantasies was fun!

No, it was more than fun. It was freeing and exciting in a way that even my art had never been.

Watching her wiggle up the bed until she was reclined against a pillow like a queen sent sparkling ideas spiraling through my brain until I started giggling as I crawled after her.

When I caught her ankle, her lips pursed while her eyes widened a fraction, the look one of sexy surprise that only grew when I pressed my lips to her skin.

Grinning, I licked my lips, then started kissing up her ankle to the bend of her knee.

I wasn’t the only one with ticklish spots.

I uncovered one behind her knee that made her squirm, so I kissed it again, trailed over it with my tongue, and listened to her gasp and moan.

The middle of her calf was ticklish too, the spot no bigger than a quarter, but I was proud of myself for finding it and earning another soft laugh from her.

Her heel slid over my thigh as I squirmed between her legs, working my way higher with kisses as soft as the feathers she’d used on me.

Her black lace underwear was right there, a pretty little barrier between me and the hidden parts of her. I wanted it out of the way, and she had said to ask if there was something I wanted, so I tilted my head back to see the soft, blissful look on her face.

“Can I take these off you, Mistress?” I asked, earning another smile from her. “They’re a little bit in the way.”

“Only a little?” she asked, winking when I tried to pout and burst into laughter instead.

“It’s all the way in the way, and I’d really like it gone, please,” I requested, unable to keep the whine out of my voice.

She must have liked it though, because she laughed and shook her head at me, then stroked my hair. I could feel her nails graze the back of my head, and I preened and pressed against the pinpricks of pressure, sighing as the sting deepened.

“I’d love for you to remove them,” Mistress said, shifting her hand just enough so the nails scraped before she let go.

This floaty feeling I’d never experienced before settled over my mind, like a light haze that left everything soft around the edges.

I’d never felt so graceful as when I glided my hands along her hips, found the edge of her panties, and peeled them off her, one slow, teasing inch at a time.

I spun them around my finger like a prize, then flung them across the room before I dove in.

No teasing, no wait, I kissed her glistening pussy, up and down, working my way to the juncture of her thighs and back in, lingering longer and licking when I reached her core.

I wanted to pleasure her as long as she’d let me, exploring with light, little kitten licks, until she started quivering.

“Mmmmm.” I purred against her opening. “Is my Mistress happy.”

“Your mistress very happy,” she moaned, the sound deepening when I glided my finger over her.

She arched into my touch until I replaced my finger with my lips and chased the taste of her as she climaxed.

Her cries made me shiver and flush with pride at being the cause of those delicious sounds.

I licked away the traces of her release before kissing my way up her belly, across her chest, and beneath her chin until I was snuggled in her arms. I’d never snuggled before, so I took full advantage of her blissed-out condition to cuddle against her.

I loved that her ragged breathing was the only sound in the room.

I’d done that; her sound was a symphony I could have listened to for the rest of the night.

“Thank you for inviting me to spend the night, Mistress,” I murmured. “It’s already off to a magnificent start.”

“You’re the magnificent one,” she replied, and tapped me on my nose the way you’d boop a kitten. “And naughty too, when you let yourself be. I’ve found a playful kitten, haven’t I?”

For a moment I stilled, uncertain and hoping I hadn’t gone too far already.

“Kitten?”

“I hope I’m not too playful for, um, for you,” I blurted, pressing my face to her shoulder as I felt myself flush.

I hadn’t wrecked the fantasy already, had I?

When her fingers glided over my hair, I sighed and felt myself settle down enough to listen to her words and not the ones inside my head.

“I want you to be as playful as you want to be, Kitten,” she said.

“There are lines you’ll learn not to cross, ones I’ll gently remind you about if you ever get close to breaching them, but I don’t want you to hold back how you express yourself.

I’ll get to learn about you that way and teach you about me so we can grow together. ”

Sighing, I snuggled closer while she held me and stroked my hair. Words weren’t needed in the moment. Touch and comfort were the only things I desired. She hadn’t sent me home after our scene on the couch. She didn’t want me to be one sub out of many. She wanted me to be hers. Her only sub.

A declaration like that meant everything to me.

“Would we see each other outside of here?” I asked the question once it popped into my head, one I wasn’t able to contain. “Go on real dates and outings?”

“Of course we’ll go on outings,” she replied.

“I want us to have all kinds of adventures, go on dates, and explore all kinds of places. I’m coming to see that I’ve spent too much time indoors for far too many years.

It’s time for me to get back out into the world outside of Menotté .

I’m sure there are plenty of things I’ve missed. ”

“I’d be happy to show you.”

“Really?”

“Of course.”

“And what’s the first thing you’d show me?” She asked as she stroked my cheek.

Thinking about how little I knew about her left me with plenty of inspiration. I couldn’t think of a better way to start to know one another outside of the bedroom than to introduce her to some of the places I loved. Curiosity flooded me. I knew the perfect place to take her to.

“Have you ever been to the Starlight Café?” I asked.

“I’ve never even heard of it,” she replied.

“Then we’ll start there, with cold dumpling soup and some of the best crab Rangoon I’ve ever tasted.

You’ll see why it’s called the Starlight Café, and then we’ll go to the planetarium; it’s open until ten.

The displays are magnificent, especially inside the dome.

They’ve got all kinds of programs that take you right into space, like you’re floating with the stars. ”

“I don’t think I’ve ever been to a planetarium.”

“Awe, we have to fix that,” I said. “They’re magical.

Sometimes I go there when I’m stuck in the middle of a painting and my muse stops speaking to me.

Watching all the cosmic displays helps me stop thinking so hard about what I want the painting to be because most times, that’s the biggest problem. ”

“In what way?”

“Just that sometimes I start to think about something so much that my thoughts drown out my muse,” I explained. “It’s never really gone. I used to worry about that part. That one day it would just vanish, and then what?”

“What taught you that your muse would always be a part of you?” she asked. “I’ve known artists far older than you who haven’t learned that lesson yet.”

“Trial and error,” I admitted. “The first time I truly felt uninspired, I signed up for a bunch of workshops and art classes that focused on different techniques and styles. I don’t remember how many I took, but it was a lot.

I was still bartending then too. So, I split my time between my job and practicing techniques until one day I looked at a painting I’d been working on and couldn’t see any of myself in it. ”

“How did you find your own voice again?” she asked.

“The first step was to stop taking classes,” I explained.

“I finished the ones I was in, then I went back to working on my own projects. Seeing them with fresh eyes helped and so did revisiting the original notes I’d taken.

It wasn’t long before my muse jumped in and reminded me of the plans we’d had. Not trusting it taught me to trust it.”

“It shows a willingness to grow when you can let go of one path to try another,” she said. “There are so many ways people get in the way of their own potential. I think we’ve all been guilty of it at least once.”

“Some of us more than once,” I said, though it was partially an admission too.

I rocked against her as she chuckled, giggling when her fingers brushed a spot along my neck.

“You’re not the only one who can claim that distinction,” she said. “I’ve been called stubborn a time or two.”

Gasping, I pressed my fingertips to my lips. “I never would have guessed.”

“Oh, you!” she snapped, tickling me deliberately this time.

My snuggling had left me trapped and unable to roll away as she tickled me mercilessly.

“I yield, oh my, no fair Mistress! Not fair!”

Of course she tickled me more, until all I could do was gasp, squirm, and start feeling super horny again.

“Who decides what’s fair?” she asked, a hint of a growl in her voice.

It cut through the giggles and helped me focus on her.

Ohhh. She expected an answer.

“Who decides what’s fair!”

Having to repeat herself turned the question into a demand. She wanted an answer. I’d better give it now.

“You do, Mistress,” I said, lowering my gaze so I wasn’t staring directly into her eyes.

“That’s right, I do,” she said, her lips descending upon mine.

Fierce. Unlike the sweetly tormenting ones we’d shared earlier, this was possessive.

New. Different. The kind of kiss I’d never experienced before.

She tugged my hair until she could kiss beneath my chin, down my throat, nipping in between kisses.

Those tiny pricks of pain left me wet and unable to squirm, arched the way she held me.

I gasped when her fingers brushed over me and whined when she moved them away, her teasing chuckle sending vibrations along my skin as she kissed her way over my shoulder.

“I believe it’s my turn now,” she said.

Yup.

Absolutely.

She could have all the turns she wanted.

“I’d love to see the Starlight Café with you,” she murmured as she kissed my neck. “And the planetarium too. I think I know the perfect dessert to top the night off with, too.”

“I love dessert,” I moaned, shivering when she nipped me again. “S-sometimes I even have it for breakfast.”

Her chuckles were better than a massage as they washed over me. My body had never felt so relaxed and heavy, but in the best kind of way. I could draw it, but trying to put the feeling into words took too much thought. Thought was hard right now.

Everything felt too amazing.

“Such a naughty girl,” she whispered, her lips never leaving my skin. “Dessert for breakfast will leave you with a stomachache.”

“N-no different than waffles with whipped cream and chocolate syrup, especially if they have chocolate chips in them.”

“Uh…”

Mistress was speechless. There was no holding back my giggles, even when she pinched my bottom.

“Valid point,” she said, chuckling a little.

“Does that mean I win?” I asked, flicking my tongue out to tease my upper lip.

“And what do you hope to gain from a victory?”

“Anything you want to give me?”

“Right answer,” she said and started tickling me again.

Okay, this time I’d earned it but oh my goddess, holy shit, it was like she’d memorized every ticklish spot.

There was no escaping her fingers. Not a bit of squirming did any good.

I laughed until I was too exhausted to move and lay limp and sprawled on the comforter.

Her hand splayed against my hip, pinning me to the bed, not that I could muster up the energy to do more than moan when she pinned my other hand to the pillow and wrapped her lips around my nipple.

Her tongue swirled around the tip, and her breath made it even harder.

Intense couldn’t begin to describe the sensation as I shuddered.

Achingly slow, she used her lips and tongue to tease and torment me, adding just a hint of teeth every now and then, always unexpected and keeping me right on edge.

Her fingers tugged my other nipple, sometimes twisting, but each time I tried to raise my hips, her fingers tightened on my hip, forcing me to endure the pleasure.

Gasping, I tried again to squirm, feeling slick and wet, desperate for her to touch me so I could climax.

Her teeth pinched my nipple, and I squealed, growing wetter as they tightened, then let go.

Her tongue chased away the sting. It was almost too soft, the contrast its own sweet pain as she tormented me.

She pinched, she licked, she twisted, and she sucked while I shivered and whined.

When she finally took pity on me and stroked between my legs, I bucked and rode her fingers until the sweet, sweet friction swept me over the edge.

She drew it out until I was quaking, then stole the last of my breath with a kiss.

There was no way I was moving again. Ever. They’d just have to bury me here. Preferably with the supersoft mattress I was sprawled across. Mistress’ fingers stroked my hair back and I melted more as her fingertip brushed my cheek. Everything was soft. Perfectly soft.

Beautifully.

Wonderfully.

Soft.